That Sacred Closet When You Sleep
by Arsyn-in-Heaven
Summary: Pete gets revenge for a prank that Claudia played on him, with disastrous  and artifact-y  consequences. First Chapter is friendship fluff, but it eventually becomes more serious.
1. Revenge

Claudia skipped down the aisle of the warehouse, and landed with a hop next to me.  
>"Wazz up, Petemeister" She ripped the clipboard out of my hand. She was donning the bracelet Artie made for her. I smirked. They were arguing about it earlier. Artie was upset because he never saw her wearing it, and Claudia insisted, "I totally wear It all the time. You just can't see past those eyebrows." How a man with so much eyebrow could be so sensitive was beyond me.<p>

"Nothing much, just cataloging...Claudiameister" She laughed.

"That was so fail." I grabbed the clipboard back and began to check off the various artifacts that were still where they needed to be. There had to be a better way to do this. Hours and hours wasted making sure everything was the same.

"Don't think I've forgotten that little prank you pulled earlier." She laughed evily at the memory.

"Whatever could you mean?" She feigned innocence.

"You know." I feigned anger. She laughed again, rotated on her heel and started walking towards the new arrivals.

"It was just an itty bitty bit 'o goo."

"Three pounds of goo isn't "itty bitty""

"You get it on you all the time."

"Not during a date."

"Well, the timing wasn't ideal. Totally not intentional, by the way."

"Mmm hm, I'm sure"

She smiled mischievously and swooped over to an unimpressive looking closet.

"Oo, what's this? A magical teleportation device to some mysterious land? Is this magical place called Narnia?"

I laughed at her typical Claudianess.

"Nope, we haven't quite located that one yet. It was Emily Dickinson's closet. Inspired some poem, Artie can't figure out what it does, we just bagged it just in case."

She lifted her eyebrow.

"Just in case? That's odd." She was staring at it, fingering the swirls carved in the heavy-looking door. The carvings looked as if they had an order, like they weren't random, but I couldn't decipher any meaning from them. It was otherwise a simple, dark brown closet, too small for someone my size to stand comfortably in (not that that stopped me), but perfect for someone about Claudia's size. I suddenly got an idea, and started walking toward Claudia.

"I don't think it does anything. I stood in it forever, nadda." I inched closer to her. She remained transfixed by the carvings.

"WeEird" I closed in a little more. She finally glanced up at me, her mouth open as if she were going to say something, and noticed my sudden closeness. I grinned widely. Her eyes widened with recognition of what I was about to do.

"Time for revenge"

"Wha-" I shoved her into the useless closet, closed the door, and leaned against it to keep it shut.

"Pete, you craphead!" She yelled. I heard her struggling to push open the door from the inside. I laughed mechanically.

"Apologize."

"What?"

"Apologize. For gooing me."

"You know this a potentially dangerous situation for me, right? You're cool with, maybe, possibly, killing me?" Her voice was muffled by the thick door.

"It's not dangerous. I've been in there. But, yeah, sure."

"K, just checking." Claudia was silent for a minute. Probably weighing the amount of time it'd take Artie to notice that we were gone against how much she did not want to apologize.

"I am sooo telling on you when I get out of here."

"And risk having me tell Artie why there's a sudden shortage in goo?"

She sighed.

"Touche, my apprentice. I have taught you well." I chuckled.

"Well..?"

She groaned.

"Alright, alright. I am very very sorry for dumping three pounds of neutralizer goo on you."

"and?"

"And your date."

"...and?"

"Peeete"

I laughed.

"Ok, ok." I turned around and pulled on the door knob.

I froze.

"uhh..."

"Pete? What? What?" Her usual snarky, sarcastic voice turned fearful in three seconds flat.

I took a deep, surprisingly shaky breath and told her, "It's not opening".


	2. Trapped

**Just an fyi, if you read the first chapter before now, I changed it a bit, so you should probably take a look, since some of the stuff is important. It won't seem like it is, but that's why I rock. lol.**

**Also, be kind. this is my second fanfiction ever. I'm still working out the kinks.**

**This is now Claudia's POV. haha, switched it up on you. yup, i'm sly like that. lol.**

* * *

><p>My ears were ringing. Kinda like something you'd see in some blockbuster boxing movie, after the buff lead actor gets punched in the face and you aren't quite sure if he'll get back up. It was kinda like getting punched in the face. Like the ground was spinning towards me, and I was supposed to be able to stop it. I was supposed to be able to put my hands out and break my fall. But my arms wouldn't move, and the spinning wouldn't stop. I didn't know why. I had been in high-risk situations before, much more so than being trapped in some hunk of wood.<p>

_Trapped._

This was different, and fifty percent of my fear came from not knowing why I was so afraid.

"Claudia?" Pete was still fumbling with the door knob. He was just so far away.

The air inside was humid and smelled of decayed wood, which made breathing even more difficult. It was almost pitch black. I lifted my hand slightly, distantly, to try to push open the door again, as futile as that proved to be, and immediately met a side of the closet. My heart jumped. I then realized just how small it was. The sides of the closet were only a few inches from my body, and if I stood on my toes, my head would touch the ceiling.

_Trapped._

My heart pounded over the ringing. I tried to breathe. I tried to stop the feeling in the pit of my stomach from rising up into my chest, to my heart. But all I could think about was that word.

_Trapped._

"Claudia?" His voice sounded worried, and all brotherly.

_Oh, How cute. Please excuse me while I barf._

"Look, Claudia? I'm sorry. I really thought it was safe."

My own bitterness made me sick. I reprimanded myself. It wasn't his fault I was in this mess, he didn't know what would happen. He thought it was harmless.

"I was in it, and nothing happened at all"

_He was **in** it? How'd he manage that?_

I pictured Pete struggling to stuff himself into the small closet, and found myself smiling a little.

"Look Pete, just get Artie? Ok?" My voice was embarrassingly shaky. I rolled my eyes at life.

He was silent for a minute, then he spoke cautiously.

"Claudia, are you alright? You don't really sound too hot."

I sighed obviously loud, for his sake more than mine. Annoyed is better than scared.

"Pete. look, I'm in a closet. It's not all that fun. Not much to do in here but smell dust, which also isn't fun."

_And neither is fighting off a panic attack._

He was quiet again. It irritated me.

"Hello? Seriously, if you could just get Artie?"

_Please just get me out._

**_*Blood trickled from her forehead, flowing over her beautiful face, tainting it. I looked into her eyes. They were my eyes. My light brown, angular eyes, dying. I coughed roughly. It smelled of burnt rubber and gas. My father reached weakly over the shattered glass to grasp her hand. The side of his rough, masculine face that I saw was covered in dirt and tears. I reached out to them. I needed to touch them, to know they were still real, but my small, child hands couldn't quite close the distance.*_**

The scene faded to black, and stayed there. I blinked. I suddenly remembered where I was, and then I wished I hadn't.

"What the hell was that?" I spoke aloud. Silence answered me, then that dark, creeping whisper.

_Trapped._

My heart stuttered. I needed to move. I needed out.

"Pete?" My voice cracked.

"Are you there?"

He didn't answer. I pressed my ear against the door.

"Pete? Hello?"

Nothing. He left me there. I rested my head against the door and struggled to hold myself together. It whispered again, sending chills down my back.

_Trapped._

"Pete!"


End file.
